Really, Father?
by tterrafirma
Summary: Itachi is set up with a distant relative- an arranged marriage planned since his youth- and only when it's too late does he realize he didn't hate her so much after all. Itachi x OC.


I barely remember the day we met. She was...six, I think. That sounds right. I was seven because Sasuke was two. My whole world revolved around the baby brother I loved instantly; I wanted my father to focus everything on him and his future already. Some relatives called me a proud father of sorts to the child. I suppose they weren't wrong, but-

Sorry. She was six. I was seven, but only just. It was a Sunday afternoon with gray clouds covering the sky. Peeks of sunshine broke through on occasion, but not enough so that I felt any better about the reason I was in a stranger's house. Well, I suppose it's not fair to call my third cousin a stranger, but she definitely was odd.

Her cheeks were always flushed as if she'd been excitedly running around trying to finish something last minute. Her hair always leaned to the left in unkempt ponytails. Her eyes were bright, unhindered by gruesome experience. Being a year younger than me let her not remember much of anything about the Third War that rocked the shinobi world to its core. Those dark eyes showed that. She wore a simple skirt and her shirt- tucked in, strangely enough- proudly bore the Uchiha emblem on its back.

I was confused. I had seen her running around the compound my clan lived in, developing the perpetually reddened cheeks, but Mother had never insisted I visit her before. I was flummoxed, honestly, and no amount of guessing led me to the right conclusion.

Mother pressed my back, signaling me to sit down, and the girl did the same. Her mother, my second cousin, sat next to her, and Mother sat next to me. That was normal enough. My second cousin held a tea kettle inclined towards me, and I nodded. She then followed by gesturing towards my mother. Some women offered men tea before women. That was normal, especially considering I was the heir to the Uchiha estate. Small talk commenced about the dreary day and how the Academy was kind to offer us the day off. That was normal, too.

Then Mother asked the girl what she thought of me, and I peered out of the corner of my eyes at the woman who had given me birth. This was common practice when 'asking' a girl in the clan to become betrothed. _Her?_ I tried to whisper with my eyes. _Really, Father? He chose her? _As the heir, I assumed I would have a more...normal wife. Perhaps one of my choosing?

Mother smiled at me, placed her hand on my folded ones, and just by the way her hair fell across the table I knew I would lose the battle. I sighed inwardly and turned to face my one-day bride.

Her hair bow had fallen into her tea and she was fishing it out with chubby fingers shoved into the small, cylindrical cup of opaque clay. Tea must've scalded her hands because she winced at me, the other bow drooping into her face. Her thin lips parted slightly and I noticed a gap where a tooth had been.

I was jealous at the time that she had begun to lose teeth before I had, and was glad when Mother stood up to leave. My second cousin chattered at us all the way to the door and her plump arms wrapped themselves around me in a parting embrace. After she had repeated the embrace on my mother's small frame, we left with a wave.

I now suppose I can't truthfully say I remember little when it came to that third cousin of mine, but she always left me dreadfully confused when I saw her.

I saw her the next year, when I was eight, at my birthday party. Her face was redder then and the party hat stood straight on her head between her ponytails. Her hair, though I had thought it to be black, was also red-flecked, I discovered that day. She sat across the table from me and looked at her shoes most of the affair. In embarrassment for me having to marry her or self-pity, I will never know.

Years passed, and I became a ninja. Sasuke was growing in leaps and bounds and would within the next year enter the Academy. My joy swelled when he'd ask me to train him, but the clan's presence in my life was growing in direct proportion to my skills as a shinobi. I'd offer him a forehead jab and a trite saying and be off on my next mission.

My teammates were odd fellows, too, though unlike my third cousin. The male was tale, extraordinarily so, and with such piercing eyes I thought that he must've been a mind reader. The female held herself so erectly and had such an easy wit and charm that I found myself one day quite thoroughly taken. Her smile made my insides melt and no words came to my mouth when I tried to speak. However, he most striking attribute was her tenacity. No matter the situation, she'd never give up.

Our sensei lost track of her once and my teammate and I thought she was dead. When she appeared the next night at the fireside with bruised arms and cuts decorating her pale limbs, I couldn't help but admire her. I made chunin just to continue being on her team- she was an ANBU, too.

I was twelve, nearing thirteen, when I was next thrown at my third cousin. Her ponytails had gotten longer and her smile was filled with teeth rather than the gaps of where her childish self had lost them. Her simple skirt had grown into a jumper dress that showed her white shirt underneath. The Uchiha crest looked still proud on her back. And her mannerisms had improved, yes, but she was loud. Her hands flew to her hips often in laughing and pouts and her fingers wagged as she talked. Father pushed me towards her when I wasn't attending clan meetings or the ANBU missions with my teammate.

My third cousin and I confided in each other, once. I had just returned from a long mission and needed to go to he hospital for a deep cut on my arm, but something told me to go home. The night was dark and the stars shone brightly through misty clouds. Summer salt caught on the air and my ponytail smacked the back of my neck as I walked, only tiring me further. It had been a long month, but the scroll came back home and the enemy who took it was about to be interrogated. Satisfaction rose up in me but was cut off when I heard a girl crying. Her sobs sounds familiar- though, in a large family, everyone seems familiar- and I couldn't help but plod straight toward the sound.

She was crumpled over in a heap, her black dress wrinkled and making its way into bundles under her knees. A sandal sat a few feet away and the other threatened to fall off her feet. Her ponytails seemed even more slack jawed that night and I didn't know until she looked up at me with bright eyes that my hand had gone instinctively to her shoulder to help her right herself.

Shock lined her face so obviously as if she hadn't been taught to keep emotions reigned in. Tears stained her- honestly pretty- face and her eyes were puffy. She looked like she'd failed a mission until her face twisted as my hand moved to her arm rather than her shoulder. My eyes peered down and I saw a bruise larger than my hand.

I steadied my voice that had gone suddenly shaky and asked, "Are you okay?"

She nodded timidly. Her face was as red as it always had been.

"Who did this to you?" I continued, my indignation rising. I knew I had no business asking.

"Did w-what?" she asked, her redness increasing and tears piling up in her eyes.

I slid my hands to her elbows and helped her stand. No one was home that night, that much I knew. Father, Mother, and Sasuke would be at an important meeting for another week. She would be safe in my room; I could sleep on the couch. I just needed an answer. "This," I urged, darting my eyes to her arm and back up. On my way, I caught the sight of a bruise on her collarbone. I cringed. "Please."

She sighed and leaned into me and I felt my arms slip around her waist. "My... my father was mad. I, um," she stuttered, "I got a boyfriend, and-"

"I understand." I closed my eyes. I wanted to free this girl from her obligations to me. I wanted her to be happy. I wanted the bruises to go away.

Her hands moved to my chest and she shook her head. She looked like she was about to push me away. Suddenly, her eyes twitched over me. "Your arm," she cried, her hand moving to her mouth.

Darn. I looked down at it and the blood had caked on me, the gash hardening up with a scab forming over it. "From my mission," I stated.

She pulled my arm into her hand and green chakra took over my vision. I felt a wave of calmness rush into me in the form of her energy. Amazement ran over my face as I watched the blood evaporate and the gash close without a scar in seconds. She was a prodigy.

My reverie broke when she squeezed my hand to tell me the treatment was over. My eyes slowly scanned back to her red face. "It's the least I could do to-"

"Help your bruises next. At my house. Stay the night. Please." The words tumbled put of my mouth before I could reign them in. What would her boyfriend think? I decided he would thank me for helping her and my stomach flipped.

She nodded, tears finally falling over her, and I led her down the road by my hand.

We came to my house quickly and I unlocked the door, always guiding her by the hand. "Tea?" I asked, toeing off my sandals.

She knelt down and placed hers next to mine. "No, thank you."

"Can I get you anything? Please," I called, "don't hesitate to ask."

I heard her sit nervously on the couch and then the hum of chakra filled the dead silence in the air of an otherwise empty house. When it ceased, I left my spot in the kitchen I had been idly standing at and took my seat across from her on the couch. Her feet were on the furniture and she flustered them away.

I smiled and plopped mine on the couch in front of me.

We talked the night away, my third cousin and I. This was a common occurrence, the beatings. She was the only recipient, for which she was grateful. Her tensions eased when she saw me nod understandingly. I never was beaten, I explained, but Father pressured me into things often.

Her shoulders sunk and she looked towards the door at that. Like me, she had said, not as a question. I reached out to her and shook my head. She returned her eyes to mine and smiled weakly. I told her not to apologize for it.

She learned about my teammate; I learned about her boyfriend. They were decidedly unalike- her boyfriend was kind and warm, but my teammate's fire would melt a candle. When I thought about it for a minute, pinkness crept up my neck. Our 'others' were quite like each other. She didn't notice, however, so I refrained from bringing it up.

The sun had started its way to rising when she finally yawned for the first time. I copied her soon after. She took my offer for tea but dashed over the kitchen to make it herself. In repayment, she assured me, her face growing into a smile. The way her ponytails shook when she ran made me smile, too. Stiffly from my mission, I stood up and made my way to the kitchen. She noticed my difficulty and soon, that too was gone because of her healing.

"You'll spoil me," I joked.

"I have a feeling you'll get used to it," she returned, pouring my tea.

After that that night, we saw each other more. Her boyfriend broke up with her one day, and she didn't seem to be too upset. I bought her a book on medical jutsus anyway. My teammate awkwardly asked me out one day, her face uncharacteristically scrunched up and her knees knocking together. The date was terrible. I complained to my third cousin about it and she came to my door the next day with a longsword in hand, explaining that she didn't know what kind of weapon I liked best.

Months passed in dizzying fun. The two of us found time to spend together when Sasuke was busy- she adored that I loved my brother and I was secretly glad she was okay with it. We sparred together, always with her healing us afterwards; we ate lunch together; we laughed together. I was just coming up on my thirteenth birthday and she called me old. She was everything fun.

And then the unthinkable happened. My clan had been planning a coup to overthrow the village for months, and it got to the point where I became a double agent- reporting to the Hokage every detail. I was torn between my beloved village and my own family. Everything took a turn for the worst after I had turned thirteen, my cousin twelve, and Sasuke eight.

I was ordered to kill them for the good of the village. The greater good. I was only allowed to spare one, and that was Sasuke. Everyone else was too involved. I sought out the only other Uchiha I ever knew about- Madara- and he was willing to help. I had to take out only a few of them personally, and he let me choose who.

She was my first stop. She had smiled when I entered her house and guilt surged through me like a lightning bolt. But I had to do this. I flash-stepped behind her and she began to cry. She knew. She always knew me.

"I love you, Itachi," she smiled weakly. She turned around to face me. Confusion must've been the only thing she saw, because she turned her hand on my face and looked at me for a minute before she pressed her lips thinly against mine, as hard as she could, held my hand on the blade she had gotten me, and ran herself through with her free hand, her mouth never leaving mine.

I stumbled back, pulling the sword from her middle. Tears threatened in my eyes. "I love you, too," I shook.

I'll never forget that confusing woman.


End file.
